


An Idealist's Manual on Doing Good

by LunasAlpha



Category: A Practical Guide to Evil - erraticerrata
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:27:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26364154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunasAlpha/pseuds/LunasAlpha
Summary: Catherine Foundling had a watch sergeant’s hand around her throat, choking the life out of her. The man began to speak, but through his belly emerged a sword that keened.
Kudos: 42





	1. Sword

The sergeant’s hand settled on my throat and started to squeeze. I tried to punch him and wrestle away his hand, but he was stronger than me and I was trying to breathe but I found myself gasping for air that simply wouldn’t come. My whole world became the feeling of cold metal pressing into my neck, biting into it as the sergeant tightened his grip further and pressed me back up against the wall of the alleyway.

I couldn’t kick him from where I was, not that it would’ve done that much against armour. I tried to punch him again, but his hand grabbed my wrist and pinned it back against the wall as I tried to desperately pry his hand away from my throat with the other. He was stronger though, and I couldn’t move his hand away as he kept squeezing down on my throat.

So, this was how I was going to die. I’d just had to play the hero, hadn’t I? 

My vision grew blurry as I lashed out with an unaimed kick, desperately trying to get him off me but it only found empty air. Fuck. I wasn’t going to die like this.

I briefly met the sergeant’s eyes, finding only I pitying look as I let out a gurgle that was supposed to be words, kicking out again weakly one last time in defiance-

I saw his eyes widen slightly as he gasped and a sword that keened emerged out of his belly before vanishing just as suddenly as it had appeared. I coughed as I desperately gulped in air, my chest heaving and my heart beating like a drum before I finally looked up. Allen, the sergeant, was dead in front of me, and I saw the other guard flop to the ground.

My mysterious saviour pulled that keening sword of his out of the guard, the only sound in the alley its low, mournful wail before he sheathed it, and looked at me with vividly green eyes.

He didn’t look much older than me, maybe seventeen or eighteen at a stretch, and between the angled, darkly handsome face, his unkempt mess of hair, the long-brown leather coat he wore and that wailing sword of his, I was looking at a hero. 

Not just one in saving me, an actual _hero_. In the flesh. 

“Thank you.” I croaked out as I pushed myself back to my feet, briefly glancing at the still catatonic woman who was cowering in a corner. It was all I could think of to say; what were you supposed to say to a hero, anyways? It’d been decades since the Conquest, and I… I couldn't think of any who'd lasted long enough to _do_ anything. The last one had lasted a week before Assassin had gotten him, and that was five years ago. None of the seven before that had either. Maybe... Maybe it'd be different this time?

“Don’t.” His voice was softer than I expected as spoke, his vividly green eyes briefly meeting mine. His head jerked away, looking back down the alleyway before turning to look at the catatonic girl, as if only just realising she was there.

“I need to go.” He said urgently, turning back to me. “She’ll be fine, but there might-”

“Be villains after me.” A woman’s voice finished at the other end of the alleyway. As she slowly moved closer, emerging into the alleyway, I could see her full size; she must’ve been almost eight feet tall, almost twice as tall as me, covered up to her neck by a cloak. I couldn’t see if she was armed, but if she was that large, she wouldn’t need a sword in the first place. Those fists could probably pulp my skull with ease if they wanted to.

It really wasn’t my day, today, was it? First a hero, now a villain. What next- No, don’t finish that thought, Catherine, that way lies tempting fate. I breathed out, trying to calm myself .

The swordsman drew that keening sword of his as he turned to face the hulking figure of the woman as she approached at an almost leisurely pace, as if she had all the time in the world which… I guess she did.

We were backed into a dead-end alley, with buildings rising on either side of us. There wasn’t any way out of this but through her. And… I didn’t know if the swordsman could take her. I wasn’t going to bet on it.

She stopped about halfway towards us, and I cursed under my breath.

I… I couldn’t just stand here. Gods Above, couldn’t I just have been allowed to leave this alley in peace, before the hero and… Whoever or whatever that gargantuan woman was went at each other? I didn’t remember Ranger being eight feet tall from the stories so… That had to be Captain, didn’t it?

I cursed again, louder this time, even as I found myself stepping forwards and crouching down. My body didn’t feel entirely my own, moving as if I were a puppet. I could have stopped myself, but I… I just couldn’t make myself.

I had to get stuck in the alley with a living legend and an upstart hero who’d just saved me, hadn’t I? Any reasonable girl would’ve fled long ago, but I… I couldn’t just stand back and let him die, could I?

I stepped forwards again, and unconsciously my hand moved down to the ground, sliding along it as I stepped over the sergeant’s dead body, my hand finding the grip of his shortsword and clasping it tightly.

What was I doing? What by the Gods Above was I doing? I couldn’t fight _Captain_ , I was some girl with a sword, I should just duck to the side, try and get around Captain and… Just leave them to it, go back to the Orphanage, pretend this all never happened and just stick with the plan of going to the War College…

Instead, I stepped forwards again, looking down at the shortsword gripped in a sweaty palm, the blade trembling faintly as I held it by my side, tip pointing forwards. It felt oddly light in my hand, natural, almost as if had belonged there, even if I’d never held a sword before. Well, I’d always intended to pick up a sword sooner or later, and better earlier than never.

I slowed my breathing as I stopped next to the swordsman, calming myself as I held the sword by my side. It was longer than the swords I’d seen some of the legionaries carrying at their sides, so at least it was probably a Callowan sword in my hand as I flicked a glance at the swordsman, who’d dropped into a stance, both of his hands on the grip of that keening sword of his, pointing it at the ground with the tip of it just above the ground.

He tilted his head towards me, and gave a curt nod.

“Mistake, girl.” Captain said, rolling her shoulders. “I-”

I didn’t waste any time listening to her talk, lunging forwards into a reckless charge, screaming at the top of my lungs.

Stupid if I was trying to fight her, yes, but fighting her was stupid. So I wasn’t going to fight her.

Captain growled at us, her cloak rippling as she prepared to strike. 

I could hear the wail of the swordsman’s sword behind me as he charged after me in my mad dash. 

Well, at least he wasn’t leaving me to die.

Captain leaned forwards, shifting her bulk around as one of her massive fists lashed out. She was faster than I thought she’d be too fast for someone of her size, but fists were something I knew how to fight, even if they were massive, skull-crushing fists.

I turned myself sideways and threw myself forwards at the last second, deftly rolling under Captain’s fist as it flew harmlessly overhead, only finding empty air, before I rolled back onto my feet in one smooth motion.

I was enough of a hero to stand up for someone who’d saved me, but there was a line between heroism and outright stupidity, like trying to fight a Calamity after picking a sword up for the first time.

“Follow me!” I shouted back as I skidded into a turn, running out of the alleyway at a sprint. Hopefully the swordsman was following me. If he was sane he’d have run as well, and trying to save him if he hadn’t that was just stupid. 

Now, well, now I just had to lose Captain. 

Just lose a Calamity, Catherine, how hard can it really be?

Captain howled out in pain from behind me, and I risked a look back, slowing for just a moment as I reached the end of the alley. The swordsman had almost caught up to me, blade in hand with something dripping down it, faintly visible in the darkness.

He’d been able to get a strike in, but wasn’t stupid enough to stick around. 

I was on the streets proper now, though, her size would slow her down hopefully, as would her injury from the swordsman and I knew these streets, how to get out of the city. I’d been about halfway back from the Rat’s Nest to the orphanage which meant it shouldn’t be too far until I actually got to the lake itself.

I didn’t slow down as I sprinted down the street, bag slapping against my side as I ran like my life depended on it. It was dark, but I wasn’t about to risk trying to hide instead of running away.

I turned left again, running down the first street that was headed towards the lake proper, kicking up dirt behind me as I ran and awkwardly sliding the sword I was carrying into my bag.

Everything seemed different in the darkness; there weren’t any lamps in this part of Laure, not that the lamplighters would’ve made it out here yet if there were, and I wasn’t normally out this late.

Buildings I’d have recognised became blocks of shadow as they passed by, the only light the occasional flickering from through a window or the faint light of the moon over the rooftops. Enough light that I felt comfortable enough without risking tripping over, at least, because that was probably a death sentence.

I couldn’t see Captain as I turned right, heading down another street, still heading in the general direction of the lakeside and where it met the wall. I wasn’t about to just assume we’d lost her, though. That would be stupid.

“Where are we going?” The swordsman asked, not even sounding like he was out of breath as he matched my pace.

“Lake.” I panted out. I wasn’t unfit, but there was a difference between pit-fighting and running for your life.

He nodded in acknowledgement as I slowed down, turning and vaulting over a low stone wall into one of the tannery’s backyards, I couldn’t tell who’s in the darkness, slowing my pace as I jogged across it before vaulting the other wall on the opposite, panting for breath as I landed.

Had… Had we lost her?

I didn’t know. 

“Did we lose her?” I asked, turning to the swordsman, not stopping but slowing again to a brisk walk. Tempting fate, perhaps, but...

“I cut her leg, so it’s possible.” He said. “But we’ll talk when we're out of the city.”

I didn’t exactly have anything to say to that, so I nodded.

It didn’t take us long to get to the lakeside at our current pace, even without Captain at our heels urging us on. The streets were deserted but for us, everyone either retired for the night or still drinking. The drunks wouldn’t come out until later.

The docks were dark and empty as we reached them, boats of varying sizes tied to wooden piers visible from the street in the gaps between warehouses.

“So what’s your plan now?” The swordsman asked, stopping after looking around.

“Go to the wall, swim around, climb out.” I said. It’d seemed smart at the time, I wasn’t about to spent time looking for a boat when it wasn’t that far to swim, and I’d swum in the lake before so I was more than comfortable doing so.

“I see.” He said neutrally, stepping in front of me and turning down one of the alleys. I hurried after him, catching up as he stepped onto the wooden dock that ran along the shoreline, briefly looking behind him.

He didn’t say anything, and we walked along the dock in silence but for the light splashing of the lake against the shoreline until we’d made it to the end by the city wall, a tower rising above us. I couldn’t see any light coming from it, though, so it was doubtful there were any guards in it. Not surprising, there hadn’t been a threat to Laure for years so there’d be no need to man every tower.

“You go first.” The swordsman said, looking behind him as if he still expected Captain to show up. 

“Sure.” I said, moving past him and sitting down on the side of the dock, breathing in deeply before gently jumping in with a small splash.

I didn’t gasp as I hit the cold lake; I’d known what I was about to do, after all, and with a single strong kick I broke the surface before starting to swim around the base of the wall. It wasn’t very far before I pulled myself back up onto the lakebank, my clothes soaked and dripping wet, finally stopping to breathe deeply.

A splash signalled that the swordsman had done the same, and it was a minute or two before he emerged from the water.

“Thanks.” He said simply, nodding at me. I nodded back, standing.

“You’re a hero, right?” I asked, trying to hide the eagerness in my voice. It wasn’t every day you met a hero in the flesh, after all. Maybe, with a hero, we… We didn’t need to remain under the Empire. Eleanor Alban had thrown off Triumphant’s yoke once, there was no reason we couldn’t do it again, was there?

He nodded again before speaking curtly. “William, the Lone Swordsman.” There was a weight to the last part as he said it.

“Catherine.” I said, offering out a hand. He didn’t take it. Ass. Okay, maybe he was a bit rude, but he was a hero still. Not every hero could be a Shining Prince in terms of personality.

“Well, you’ve been helpful, but I’ll have the Eyes of the Empire after me now.” He said, looking at me. “So this is where we part ways.”

“Uh, what?” I blinked, staring in disbelief, my mind grinding to a halt in shock. He… He couldn’t just leave me here, could he? That wasn’t how it went in the stories. Heroes didn’t just… Abandon the people that saved them. What would I do if he did? It wasn’t like I could just go back to the orphanage with my soaking wet and dirt-stained uniform, someone would rat me out and if Captain recognised the uniform in the alley, well… That was a fate best left unthought of.

There was no way I was even going to try going to the War College now, even with what I’d saved up. I’d… I’d picked a side when I’d stepped up next to William in that alley. 

“I’m leaving you behind.” William stated bluntly. “Don’t follow me, it’s better for the both of us.”

“I’ll follow you.” I threatened. “I could help.”

“Can you fight?” William asked, pointing at the sword in my bag. “With that.” 

“No.” 

I shook my head. “I can use my fists, though. Or you could teach me?” I asked, trying to hide the pleading from my voice as I felt a pressure settle onto my shoulders as I spoke, like there was an invisible cloak hanging off them and down my back.

“It takes being ten times better with your fists to beat someone with a sword. And I have no time to teach you how to fight.” William said bluntly. “Can you use magic?”

I shook my head again. The weight on my shoulders grew lighter.

I hadn’t been that lucky as to be born with it.

“Can you use Light?” William asked.

I shook my head for a third time. The weight on my shoulders grew even lighter.

I hadn’t even considered becoming a sister in the House of Light, not with how I slept through sermons and traded my essays on history with others for theirs on the Book of All Things because my eyes glazed over through most of it when reading it.

“And that is why you can’t help.” William said, crossing his arms. “You’re not useful to me. You’d just get in the way.”

“I can still follow you.” I threatened again, the weight lifting from my shoulders. “You can’t stop me.”

William turned away, hand moving to rest on his sword’s hilt as he walked off into the darkness, the threat unspoken but there nonetheless.

Gods Above, what an utter, absolute asshole. What kind of hero left the plucky orphan girl who'd helped behind? That didn’t happen in the stories. I watched him leave, slowly becoming a shadow before vanishing altogether, and turned to look through my bag. I had my shirt from the Pit, still with flecks of blood on it, my winnings from the Pit and the sword I’d grabbed earlier.

I looked up at the city wall around Laure, and turned away, starting to walk, shivering in the cold night air. 

I’d never actually left Laure, so it was a shame that it was dark as I walked along the lakeside, grass crunching beneath my feet, moonlight flickering along the water to my left, a dark void off to my right. I could only imagine what it looked like in daylight, fields of green and gold tended to by farmers. Not paradise, but... Nice. Something worth protecting and fighting for.

I’d find somewhere away from the city where I could hang my clothes up to dry and try and get some sleep and… I’d figure out my next step tomorrow. 

It was maybe an hour of walking along the lakeside, heading south from where the moon hung in the sky, before I finally turned, walked up the nearest tree and collapsed down against it. Sleep came easily.

The Lone Swordsman might’ve been a hero, but I’d sooner become a villain than see someone like him trying to liberate Callow from the Dread Empire. 

Now, I just had to figure out how to do that with what I had.


	2. Sanctuary

I woke to the rumbling of my stomach, and opened my eyes before immediately shutting them from the blinding glare of the morning sun. I opened my eyes again, blinking and raising a hand in front of them to shield them from the sun.

Well, I hadn’t been stabbed in my sleep, so that was a good sign. I’d never slept outside before so I wasn’t really sure what to expect.

Slowly, I pushed myself up into a sitting position, stretching my arms and legs out. Gods Above, if I got this sore every time I slept outside I was going to be in for a rough time of all this.

Finally, I stood up, my stomach rumbling hungrily again. The last time I’d eaten would have been… In the Rat’s Nest? I normally got some stew and bread there during my shift, so that would mean I’d last eaten yesterday evening. 

And then I’d gotten into… Everything that happened, and walked for an hour. Or two. Somewhere around that amount of time. And normally, the matrons would be preparing breakfast for everyone before morning classes at the Orphanage, or was it sermons in the morning today?

Either way, normally I’d have had a nice, hot bowl of porridge-

No Catherine, bad Catherine. Don’t think about food. Not when it’d just make me more hungry.

I walked down to the lake, the dawn light shining off of it having been what’d blinded me when I’d woken up and knelt down by the water’s edge, cupping my hands together before placing them into the lake.

No one in Laure drank the lake water. Water was got from wells, not the lake; drinking lake water was a certain way of needing to see a priest to get yourself fixed up. But I was desperate and I didn’t know if it’d make me ill but it was far enough away that I felt it was better than nothing.

I scooped up a small pool of cool water in my hands and drank, savouring the cool water as I poured it slowly into my mouth. Not quite as good as an actual breakfast, but it’d hopefully stop me from feeling hungry until I hit a village. I hadn’t hit one so far because I was still too close to Laure, the nearest was around half a day there and back from memory if I was remembering the map right. The nearest big city, Southpool, was… Two weeks and a bit by horse? Either way, I wasn’t going to be back in a city for a while.

I made my way back up to where my bag lay. Everything was still there. I pulled my blood-flecked shirt out and walked back down to the lake, putting it in. I figured I’d wash it while I had the chance, since it was the only other piece of clothing I had. I washed it as best as I could with just my hands in the lake before wringing it out, hoping that it’d be enough to get some of the blood out.

I unravelled it, looking it over. I’d have gotten more out if I had the luxury of soap, but at least it looked more like a dirty shirt than a blood-flecked one now. Rolling it back up into a ball, I walked back up the lakeside and stuffed it into my bag. I wasn’t sure when I’d hit the first fishing village, but it couldn’t be that far.

My stomach rumbled again.

I glared down at it. Had the Lone Swordsman ever had to deal with hunger? Did heroes even  _ get _ hungry? Or did they starve to death before they became a hero? Or did the Gods Above just give them helpful peasants to give them meals or conveniently placed bushes of berries they woke up next to?

Well, I was just going to get hungrier the longer I stood around, so I picked up my bag and started to walk along the lakeside. Oooh, maybe I’d find an orchard? Fresh apples would be nice right now…

Damnit, me.

It was… Different, to how it had been at night. The Silver Lake shone in the early morning light on my right, and to the left were not the stretches of golden and green fields, but instead a small line of woods a short distance from the lakeside which I’d slept under one of the trees of.

Also too quiet, for a city girl like me. It was practically silent compared to the streets of Laure. There was only the low sound of the wind, the lapping of the lake against the shore, the buzzing of insects… 

I didn’t have anyone to talk to, and if I started to think the pangs of hunger in my stomach were going to just distract me sooner or later. Gods Above, did berries grow near lakes? Did apple trees even grow in the wild? Why couldn’t I have been a farm girl? I’d have known what I was doing out here if I was.

At least I could start a fire. I mean, I didn’t have a firestriker, but… A sword could work, right? It was metal, and it couldn’t be too hard to start a fire with that and a rock. Could it? At least it wasn’t winter. I might be cold at night, but I wouldn’t freeze to death.

Maybe I could whistle as I walked? I’d never tried to whistle, but… It would be something to fill the silence, at the very least. 

I let out a low, experimental whistle.

Huh. Not bad. At least I didn’t sound like a drowning cat.

I tried a few tunes as I kept walking, I’d heard enough songs while in the Rat’s Nest that I knew quite a few and there was something rather satisfying about hearing the refrain of old rebel songs as I walked by the lakeside.

My whistling of The Fox is King was recognisable, at least, but after a few minutes of whistling I started to sing instead. I’d never been a natural singler, certainly not good enough to be a bard, but there was just something… Wrong about only whistling the rhythm. It wasn’t like there was anyone out here to say I was singing rebel songs. Sure, it was the Praesi, not the Procerians occupying Callow, but the sentiment was much the same.

Where was our Alistair the Fox, when we needed him?

The sun was high in the sky and my throat was hoarse from the singing by the time I stopped to rest, somewhere around midday. I’d have kept walking, my legs and feet ached but not bad enough for me to stop and rest before I found civilisation, but I’d found food.

Sure, it was only a blackberry bush, but I grinned as I slumped down next to it and started picking the fruits off the bush and eagerly stuffing them into my mouth, the juice soothing my sore throat. Gods Above, these were nice. Maybe it was just not eating for a few hours, and having to walk… Quite a bit on an empty stomach, but still.

I tore a few more off the hedge for the walk, dropping them into my bag before getting back up. 

Striking up a low whistle, I started to walk again with a newfound spring in my step now I’d actually eaten.

It shouldn’t be that far to a village, hopefully. A bed and warm food would be just… Great.

As I kept walking, I started to think I might’ve been a bit too optimistic as the sun slowly started to drop in the sky and day became night, the moon rising low over the lake, the forest by the lake bank not so much as having thinned out as far as I could tell, not that I could really see it anymore in the near pitch-black darkness. 

Someone else might’ve just given up and collapsed and it honestly felt tempting with how sore my aching legs felt after walking for most of a day, but I knew, I just knew that if I did that, I’d find I’d crashed right next to a village when I woke up and I’d have missed out on a solid roof to sleep under.

So I kept walking. Just a bit further. There was barely enough moonlight to see by, hopefully-

My foot met empty air where there should’ve been ground and with a yelp I fell, wincing as I splashed into cold water at the bottom of what was probably a ditch. Well, it was a sign of civilisation, even if I’d found it by falling into it.

At least I hadn’t twisted my ankle in the fall. That would’ve been painful to walk on. Wincing, I slowly pushed myself up, shaking the water off as best as I could and hauled myself out the other side of the ditch. My boots were soaked from what I could feel, and mud caked my arms as I finally climbed out with a tired sigh and started to walk again.

My ankle pulsed, aching from the fall and tiredness both as I kept walking. The clouds had cleared away, now, so it was easier to see, and looking around the dark shadows of the trees had given way to an empty void of blackness that I assumed was fields.

A small light flickered in the darkness ahead and I started to walk faster, wincing in pain at the increase in pain but spurred on by the light I pushed forwards regardless. Shapes loomed ahead in the darkness, slowly forming into buildings as I made my way into the village before the light ahead of me winked out.

Well, whatever it had been, I’d made it here. Wherever here was.

Now, well, I just had to find somewhere to sleep.

I passed by what in the dark I thought might’ve been a tavern from the sign creaking lightly in the wind, but the door looked shut and there was neither sound or light coming out, the owner seemingly having gone to sleep. Well, it’d been a bit too much to hope for a bed at this hour.

Maybe I could find a barn or something? Hay couldn’t be too uncomfortable to sleep on. It’d beat a tree and damp grass.

I stopped in the middle of the street, in front of a squat building, maybe two buildings along from the tavern. It didn’t look like much from the outside, but from what I could see in the darkness it looked larger. I wasn’t sure why, but something about it just… Called to me and I found myself approaching it. I gave the wooden door a light pull and it opened without resistance, the creaking loud in the otherwise silent night.

I stepped inside, looking over the interior as I shut the door behind me. It was only one room, as far as I could see, and from the rows of pews inside and the faint shape of a lectern at the other end, Well, that explained why it’d been unlocked. Who’d bother robbing a House of Light in a place like this?

And being found by a priest beat being found by a farmer in the morning, since I doubt the Gods Above would particularly mind me borrowing a pew to sleep. I dropped my bag to the ground, sword clattering lightly as it hit the smooth dirt floor before I pulled out my mostly dry shirt and bundled it up to use as a pillow and lay down on the pew.

Sleep came quickly and easily for once.

I woke hours later to a hand gently shaking my shoulder. I shot upright, a hand reaching down in panic towards the sword in my bag before I stopped, looking at the figure that’d woken me up.

“A jumpy one, aren’t you, child?” She said, smiling and leaning over the back of the pew in front of mine. Her face was a maze of wrinkles, and her robes hung loosely over her gaunt frame. She looked so old I couldn’t actually tell how old she was, she could have been anywhere from seventy upwards.

“You’d be too.” I shot back, pulling my arm back from my bag and crossing my arms. “If you’d just been woken up by a stranger in a strange place.”

“I suppose.” She nodded lightly, briefly looking down at my chest, noticing the badge of the orphanage still emblazoned on my shirt. “A runaway from the orphanage?”

“It’s… Complicated.” I said warily. “Can I see your arms?”

“Wary, as well.” She let out a small laugh before pulling the sleeves of her robes up, one after the other. “Satisfied I’m not an Eye? Not that the Eyes have ever had much reason to watch the House.”

I looked her over her arms, thin and gaunt with bone faintly visible beneath the skin, but not seeing any marks or tattoos I nodded silently.

“If I was doing my duty as a Sister, I’d have to take you back there, unless you had good reason to run. Why did you run, child?” She asked softly. “Did they hurt you? Did you get in trouble with the guards?”

“No, no.” I shook my head furiously, everything pouring out of me at once. “They never treated me badly, I… Just got caught up in something. Guards were stabbed but they deserved it, they tried to rape someone and I stepped in and then a hero got involved and it…”

“All went downhill from there?” The Sister supplied, and I nodded.

“He just… Left me there, outside of Laure. After I’d helped him escape from Captain, as well. Said I’d slow him down.” I said, scowling as I vented. Fucking William. How did an asshole like that become a Hero?

“Above does not require that one be a good person, only that one does it.” The Sister said slowly. “Some Heroes are those that were once monsters turned seekers of redemption through deeds. Most, I like to think, are good people. Do you know his Name?”

“Name?” I blinked. “Lone Swordsman, I think.” I’d been angry at the time, but… The ‘Lone’ part now seemed more important.

“Ah.” The Sister nodded. “A lone Hero, then.” She smiled, almost sadly. “Another one for the Calamities to take, I fear, child.” The Sister stood up slowly, holding herself up on the back of the pew. “Would you like some breakfast?” She offered. “You must be hungry.”

“Breakfast would be great.” I said, stomach rumbling at the thought of proper food for the first time in days.

“Then I’ll be back shortly.” She said, nodding. “Sister Margaret.” She introduced herself.

“Catherine.” I said, reaching down and pulling my bag out from under the pew and up onto my lap while Margaret slowly got up to her feet and left the room by a door I hadn’t seen yesterday, in the back of the House of Light. I must’ve missed it in the darkness and my own tiredness. 

She returned a few minutes later, holding two plates of bread and cheese, and handing one to me. I tore into it ravenously as Margaret watched, eating her own bread with slow, careful movements.

“You can stay, if you like.” Margaret offered as I swallowed a chunk of cheese, making me look up from my plate.

I blinked, confused. “Stay?” I asked. “Wouldn’t that-”

“Be putting me in danger?” Margaret smiled, amused. “I shall be making the journey to the Heavens sooner rather than later, regardless, Catherine. The least I can do with the time I have left is to help others. And I doubt you’ll stay for particularly long. You have the touch of the Gods Above on you.”

Now I was just even more confused as I looked down at my arm. Nothing looked any different to how it did a few days ago. I must’ve looked it, since Margaret continued. “It’s a faint thing on you, oh so faint, but it’s certainly there there.” Margaret said as I looked back at her. “I’ve seen it twice before, but there are few in the House who live that would recognise it, much less yours with how faint it shines.”

“What does it mean?” I asked, leaning forwards eagerly. Gods, I could do with some good news after the previous two days.

“It means you could be a Hero, Catherine.” Margaret said as she set her plate down.”I saw it once on young Robert, back when I was still a novice in Laure, in the crowds in the cathedral for his coronation as Good King, and again when I was older, when Edward was crowned as the Shining Prince.” Margaret said. “Oh, theirs was almost blinding in comparison to yours, but it’s the same thing nonetheless.” 

The original plan of going to the War College was obviously not an option now, but… I’d never even so much as considered trying to be a Hero. Why would I have considered it? Heroes… Heroes died in Callow. They failed. Over and over again. It’d been twenty years and none had really had a chance.

Maybe I’d be different. But I was too practical a girl to just… Believe I would be different. How many other heroes had said the same? Had William?

“I’ll stay.” I finally said. “Not for long, but…”

“My novice will be back from studying in Laure in a week, she left yesterday.” Margaret said, nodding. “I’ll find you some spare robes in the back room. If you want, I could try and teach you healing, and I’ll look through my husband’s old things if he had anything you could find useful.”

Maybe things were looking up a little after all.


	3. Scripture

“Not everyone can wield Light. Even those with steadfast faith in the Gods Above are not certain to be blessed to wield it.” Margaret said, her hands resting on the table. We’d moved into the back room of the House of Light which seemed to be nice enough, given I’d apparently be staying here. A hearth in one wall with an empty cooking pot hanging in it, two beds at the other end separated by a divider, and a table in the middle, a basin of water sitting off to one side.

“I’ve never even thought about it.” I admitted. The set of woolen novice’s robes itched against my skin as I shifted around, trying to get comfortable on my chair. “Although a mage I knew said priests cheat.”

“A mage would say that.” Margaret sniffed disdainfully. “Channeling Light seems easy to those with magic. It is, but the hard part is getting it to channel in the first place. The Gods Above pick and choose who may channel and who may not. How was it described to you?”

“Priest prays, power goes through them, fixes what needs fixing. Or something like that.” I said, shrugging. “I’m assuming it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“Only a bit, yes.” Margaret said, nodding. “Light is the will of the Gods Above made manifest, into power given unto their followers to heal the sick and wounded. Channeling that takes more physical effort than one might think, for one. The more difficult part is the initial teaching. The normal method to train novices, as they use in the cathedrals and basilicas would take too long. So we’ll be using the quick and distasteful way, and Gods Above willing, you’ll be able to channel Light by the end of the week. Perhaps not reliably, but… There’s only so much practice one can get in a week.” 

“And the quick and dirty method is…?” I asked warily. It couldn’t be too bad, this was the House of Light after all, they wouldn’t use anything like human sacrifice or something.

“Normally, a novice learns by practicing on those who are already sick and injured in a city, practicing under the supervision of a priest.” Margaret said as she stood up, walking over to a shelf on the side of the room. “In between classes on theology, readings from the Book of All Things, sermons and assorted chores. Often they teach how to read and write as well, to the less educated novices. It’s a slow process.”

“So-” Margaret continued, taking something off the shelf and walking back over to the table and sitting down opposite me. “We’re going to do the quick and dirty method. How my husband, Gods Above bless his soul, learned how to heal, instead of how I did.”

She set a knife down on the table, and pushed it across towards me. Hesitantly, I picked it up, holding it in my right hand.

“So… You want me to stab myself?” I asked, staring at the knife. I mean, it’d explain why it was the ‘quick and dirty’ method, but stabbing myself seemed rather melodramatic.

“Nothing quite as… Brutish as that.” Margaret said, smiling in amusement. “A small cut will do, usually on the palm, enough so that it’s visible, not too large so that it becomes difficult for a novice channeler to wield the Light required to heal.”

I nodded and held out my hand, palm up as I placed the knife against my palm, feeling the coldness of the metal before I pressed the knife into my hand. Pain sparked in my palm, but I didn’t wince; this was nothing compared to having a bone broken if I’d gotten unlucky against one of the larger brawlers in the Pit.

“Now what?” I asked, staring down at the small red line of blood across my palm from where I’d cut it.

“Focus.” Margaret said simply. “I always found shutting my eyes helps. Light feels different to all who use it. It’s… Around you, it simply needs you to feel its presence, to have faith that it is there, before you can guide it.”

I nodded, shutting my eyes and focusing.

Nothing. I felt nothing, just… The brush of the air on my skin, the feeling of one hand resting on the other. Nothing that… Stood out to me. That felt any different.

Were all the years I’d spent dozing off in sermons coming back to haunt me now? Light was the domain of priests, and, well, I’d hardly have said I was even somewhere remotely near being devout as a person. Not every Hero could use Light though, could they? It wasn’t a requirement or something-

“Stop thinking.” Margaret said sternly, interrupting my thoughts. “Light requires faith and belief, both that you can wield it and in the Gods Above. Do not doubt yourself, Catherine.”

I said nothing. I… I could do this. I hadn’t been cut down by those guards, slaughtered by Captain or gone with William, been turned away from whatever path had awaited me at the War College and Praes for a reason.

I felt something softly settle on my shoulder, but I didn’t open my eyes. I could feel the weight of a cloak settle on my back, present but still light, as if it would be blown by a stiff breeze. My skin felt warm, like I’d been out in the summer sun. I bathed in it for a moment, feeling the warmth flow over me like wind. It twisted around me, wild and free, the cloak that was not there brushing against my upper back as it was blown about by the non-existent wind.

I reached for it, and the wind moved to my will, a flowing, gently warm wind that I pushed down my arm, the warmth following it until it met my hand. I flinched slightly as my hand burned for a brief second and then there was nothing, the gentle warmth vanishing as soon as it had come.

I opened my eyes, looking down at my now healed palm, and up at Margaret’s softly smiling face.  
“Quick and dirty, like I said.” She said. “How did it feel?”

“Like the wind.” I said, a note of awe in my voice as I looked at my palm. “Warm and soft.”

“I always found it a harder thing, more like warm water flowing over me.” Margaret said. “If you don’t mind, I’ll leave you to practice. There’s always something that needs doing. I’d recommend trying cuts in different places, practice healing different places. Be careful, though, and don’t cut anything important.”

“I will be.” I promised as she stood up, and left me alone to practice.

-

It must’ve been around mid-afternoon when Margraet returned, the door to the back room of the House of Light creaking open. I looked back over my shoulder from where I’d been slumped over the table, half-asleep in exhaustion.

“Tired?” Margaret asked, smiling as she made her way around to take a seat opposite me. “This is why it’s not taught like this in the cities, but we have to make do.”

“Mh.” I mumbled out, too tired to form proper words.

Healing was surprisingly easy, it had turned out,, after the first time; healing the palm seemed to be much the same as healing the kneecap or the shoulder, it was simply a matter of channeling Light and… That was about it, really. Light seemed to recognise what was wrong and fix it by itself, but it was likely one thing to heal a small cut from a knife, another entirely to heal if I’d been stabbed or even if I’d just been punched particularly hard.

It was also, as I’d found out, extremely tiring.

It wasn’t something I’d even considered before, but it turned out healing for several hours straight… Drained you. It was worse than fighting in the Pit, there it was a tiredness that was just restricted to your limbs, but healing was like using every muscle in your body. 

“You’ll get used to it.” Margaret said, patting me on the shoulder. “Healing is like any skill, it grows easier with use.”

“Where’d you go, anyways?” I asked, slowly pushing myself up from the table, yawning. “Can’t be much to do here.” And given her age, I doubt she was helping with the farmwork or something.

“You’d be surprised.” Margaret said. “Light heals animals just as well as it heals people. But today, at least, I was doing our brewer’s record-keeping and teaching some of the younger children. Nothing you’d not know, although you might be in the news our brewer brought from Laure.”

“Oh?” I asked, perking up. If something had happened in Laure to be news to some brewer in a tiny village like this, well, it had to be important. Maybe William had done something stupid? I wouldn’t put it past him.

“Governor Mazus is dead.” Margaret said.

I sat there in silence for a second, briefly considering spitting before deciding against it. 

“Good.” I said. “Bastard deserved it.”

“The Black Knight had him strung up by the neck in the market square.” Margaret continued. “It was not a particularly pleasant death, I am told.”

“He deserved that as well.” I said. Mazus had deserved everything he’d gotten, corrupt bastard that he’d been. It was just a shame I hadn’t been there to see him swinging in the wind in person. “Is this when you give me a lecture on compassion?” I asked. They would’ve given one back at the orphanage, and they were never pleasant.

“Were it anyone else who had died, I might.” Margaret shook her head. “But there are different interpretations of the Book depending on what one reads. The righteous must answer kindness with kindness and wickedness with wroth. I doubt they ever taught you that part of the Book.”

I shook my head. They hadn’t, funnily enough. I wasn’t surprised, I hadn’t exactly expected an Imperial Orphanage or the House in Laure to teach the parts that might get the Praesi breathing down your neck if you started using them in sermons.

“I’ll give you my old one and mark the relevant passages, it’s a bit fraying and battered but it’s most certainly still readable.”

I didn’t really have anything to say to that and just nodded, so I changed the subject onto what was for dinner. I hadn’t eaten all day, and food sounded great right now compared to the drudgery of the Book of All Things. It didn’t take long for Margaret to get some food together, and I tore into the plate of bread and fruit presented.

I ate in silence, lost in thought about what we’d just said. Mazus was gone, and that was obviously good, but… What did that really change? Laure would be under legionary rule for… A month, two maybe, and then some other Praesi toadling would take his place. Nothing would really change. There’d just be someone different wearing that Praesi boot.

Margaret didn’t say anything, just looking across the table at me, and I went to bed early. 

Sleep came easily in a proper bed.

-

The week passed quickly, and was much the same as the first day. Margaret, it turned out, was an early riser, and expected me to do the same, not that I’d complained. She’d taken me in out of kindness and asked for nothing in return, so the least I could do was get out of bed a bit earlier than I’d have liked. 

Then I’d spend a few hours practicing healing in much the same manner as I had been. Make a cut, heal it. It’d lost its novelty after the first day and was rather boring, it turned out, but it wasn’t like there was much else to do. This was a village, what was I going to do, go and help in the fields? I didn’t know the first thing about farming, so I’d just get in the way, and Margaret spent most of her time 

I’d been given a slightly battered copy of the Book of All Things, but reading scripture wasn’t exactly something I considered to be fun most of the time. It was just reading the same words that were read out at sermons of the House of Light, and I tried to not fall asleep in those. 

Probably because the priests didn’t touch on all the interesting parts that Margaret had marked for me. Sure, they liked to preach on about the virtues of compassion, patience, generosity and humility in their sermons, but they never mentioned ‘there being no compassion for those who take up the banner of Evil’ or ‘those champions who take up the cause of Good shall be granted three graces, which shall banish evil from the land’.

Honestly, I’d been missing out. Some chiselled priest bellowing about how ‘the wicked shall reap nothing but what they sow twicefold’ sounded like it’d have been much more entertaining than some doddering priest. Still, it was something to read in the breaks between practicing healing.

I woke before dawn on the day I was leaving, slipping out of bed and pulling my robe on. It didn’t itch as much as it had after almost a week of wearing one, or feel all that unnatural really now as it rested lightly on my shoulders.

Margaret was still sleeping, and I didn’t feel like waking her as I started to gather my things. I had the bag I’d brought from Laure, slightly battered as it was, and a sack to throw over my shoulder Margaret had lent me, saying that she’d just make another. The sword and a piece of cloth went in there, alongside the small amount of coin I had. Twenty-one silver denarii, four coppers. It’d keep me going for a bit, just a shame I’d had to leave the rest of my savings behind. Some spare clothes, some blankets, some tinder and a fire-striker that I'd packed yesterday, kindly provided by Margaret.

It’d have to be enough.

I grabbed myself a plate from a shelf and made myself breakfast, bread and cheese, that I ate slowly. I didn’t really have a need to rush, after all. 

“Up early?” I didn’t turn around as I heard Margaret’s voice from behind me, instead tearing off a piece of bread and eating it while the shuffle of sheets and clothes signaled she was dressing herself.

“Yeah. Eager to be off.” I admitted. “Not that you’ve not been good to me, but…”

“You feel like you should be doing something.” Margaret finished as she went to get herself breakfast, stepping around the table.

“Yeah.” I said. “I always liked doing something, or feeling like I was doing something, you know?” Even back in Laure, I’d still been working towards that end goal of saving up for the War College, then get through the War College, then work up through the Legions of Terror. I hadn’t really gotten much of a plan beyond then, figuring that I’d make it up when I got there. No matter how long it took me.

Now, well, it seemed I’d be doing things the other way. 

The stupid way.

The way that didn’t work.

Just because something hadn’t worked yet, didn’t mean it was impossible, though.

“I can understand, but not really relate.” Margaret said sympathetically. “Where will you go when you leave?”

“Not sure.” I shrugged. I really wasn’t. I was a city girl, but cities were where the Eyes would be. Equally, a half-Deoraithe girl like myself wouldn’t exactly blend in anywhere that wasn’t near the border with the Duchy of Daoine, while I’d have a better chance in cities. Keeping my robe’s hood up would help a little. “Southpool, maybe. It’s maybe a month on foot, but not like that matters much.”

I wasn’t really sure what I’d do there, but a month on foot meant I’d have plenty of time to think about that. A month to figure out a completely new plan on how to liberate Callow without getting stabbed by Assassin while on the run.

“I see.” Margaret said neutrally. “I only ask that you’re careful out there, Catherine. Callow is not a kind place for heroes anymore.”

“I’m not a hero yet.” I pointed out. 

“You helped one, and that is enough for them.” Margaret said, smiling sadly. “There is little more dangerous to a villain than an orphan with a sword, if one looks at history. You may not be a hero yet, but they will hunt you to make sure you do not become one. And before you say it, you don't need to thank me. Generosity and compassion are their own rewards, after all.”

“You don't need to preach to me," I said, smiling slightly, "and I’ll be careful.” I promised. I wasn’t about to just start riding around villages rousing peasants to revolt, and I was fairly sure at least one hero had probably actually tried that at some point before getting a sword through the chest or a knife in the back. 

“I’m not sure how or if it’ll help, but every novice should have a Book of All Things.” Margaret said, standing up and taking my plate along with hers over to where a bucket of water sat, placing them in before grabbing the same battered Book of All Things I’d been reading all week. “And since you’ve been reading it, you might as well take my old one. My novice will be bringing a replacement or two back with her anyways.”

“I’m not a novice.” I protested, even as I looked down at my robes. 

“You are now.” Margaret said, a smile that verged on a smirk on her face as she held out the book to me. “There’s no fancy initiation ceremony for novices out here, if a Sister says you’re to be one, you’re willing and you have the robes, you are one.”

I hesitated for a moment. I didn’t need to take the book; I’d never been that pious, never really liked the sermons and even the parts I’d read this week were more for the sake of passing time than any desire to actually read it, even if some parts had been more interesting than I’d expected. It wouldn’t even be rude to decline it.

Not taking it felt like it’d be a waste, though. What kind of a novice would I be without a Book of All Things? It’d be something a novice would be expected to have, and honestly, being a novice would probably be a useful disguise and a way to have places to sleep overnight in the form of Houses of Light. No priest would turn away a novice asking for shelter.

When it came down to it, there wasn’t much of a choice.

I reached forwards and slowly took the Book of All Things from Margaret’s hand and tucked it into my sack, and the world seemed just a little bit brighter for it.


End file.
